


it's nice to have a friend

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Endgame, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-FATWS, Slow Burn, domestic sambucky rights, it starts sad but then it turns super soft i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22779760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sam learns about Bucky’s bad days. Bucky learns to be a person and to trust someone again.AKA the one where they are domestic superheroes, adopt a pet, teach each other new stuff and fall in love during the process.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 161





	it's nice to have a friend

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this story with the idea of Sam and Bucky living together and softening to each other in doing so, but i enjoyed exploring their relationship so much that not only this turned out longer than i expected but there’s also a bit of smutty stuff? nothing too heavy ig but still, this is a first for me :D 
> 
> Many many thanks to Ellie (@elliebbarnes on twitter) for helping me with editing this (which is never easy bc english is not my first language so :'D) and for motivating me with her sweet comments about the story 💕this wouldn't have been possible without her ❤️
> 
> Anyway, y'all like this story!

They live in separate rooms at the new Tower. At least for now, until things get more stable, after The Blip and all it brought.

Bucky is… a bit different than Sam had expected. His personality is so changing that it makes Sam a little bit dizzy sometimes. On great days; Bucky is the smoothest, most charming person he’s ever met. On regular days (which are now the majority of them, thank God) he’s a more reserved version of the great days. He’s quiet and thoughtful, considerate. And on bad days, he stares into the distance and barely speaks a word, eyes glassy and sad with things he can only see.

Sam has been in touch with Steve, especially now that he’s getting used to being Captain America. They have naturally talked about Bucky too. Steve has told Sam that there are really bad days, like _really bad ones,_ where Bucky has breakdowns and panic attacks and sometimes can’t even say a word in English. Sam hasn’t seen those days, yet, and he’s sort of glad about it. Steve has told him there was a time when those days used to be so common that Sam’s just happy that Bucky is doing much better. Sometimes, though, he does worry that it’s not that and that this is just Bucky hiding his struggles from Sam. However, Sam guesses it’s kind of hard to hide that stuff when you live with somebody else, so he tries not to give much thought into it.

They have fallen into an easy routine when there are no missions. They usually go running in the morning and at this point Sam is used to being left behind when it comes to racing super-soldiers, but it’s still nice to have a partner. Even if Bucky is kind of an asshole who makes fun of him for being normal — Bucky never misses an opportunity to make fun of Sam.

That’s why Sam is surprised the day Bucky doesn’t want to go running.

Bucky’s honest enough to admit that he’s had a rough night, and it shows in the bags under his eyes. But when Sam tells him he’s there if he wants to talk about it, Bucky closes like an oyster and just tells Sam to go running without him, for he just needs more sleep.

Sam really doesn’t want to leave him in that state, but he’s also been there, so he knows that Bucky won’t really talk for now. Thus, Sam leaves.

Running is good. It distracts him, but even if he’ll never admit it out loud, he misses Bucky a little: his constant presence there, his harmless jabs at him. And even though exercising is good and the burning of his muscles distracts his busy mind, he can’t really help his thoughts drifting to Bucky every now and then.

* * *

It _hurts,_ Bucky thinks.

It hurts _all the time._ Sometimes it just overflows. Bucky curls up into a ball in an attempt to make himself smaller so they have less room to attack him — he closes his eyes and he just can’t stop seeing _them_ all over him, with their scalpels and their needles and the _wipe him start over, wipe him start over_ and _oh Christ_ he _looks so much like_ Steve _and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it never really stops hurting…_

“Bucky,” someone calls. He whimpers because that name doesn’t belong to him; and he shakes his head because it’s easier if he denies all the evidence that he was a person before, and—

“Bucky!” the voice shouts. Bucky snaps his eyes open and sees Sam but he just won’t stop shaking so bad, his eyes unable to focus on him and his mind still miles away from that moment.

“Bucky, buddy, you’re having a panic attack,” Sam tells him as he holds his hand, the flesh one. He presses Bucky’s thumb to his wrist. Bucky is hyperventilating and he tries his best to focus on Sam’s pulse, to think of other stuff.

“Hey, pal, you’re doing great. Good job. Can you tell me where you are, buddy?”

A voice rings in his head. It says, _The asset does not have the privilege of knowing its location._

“Bucky, breathe.”

That one’s easy. _Ready to comply._

“Do you know who you are?”

 _Asset,_ says the voice in his head. _Asset does not require a name. Asset doesn’t have the privilege of a name;_ and at the same time, another voice adds: _Sergeant Barnes. 3255 7038. 3255 7038._

“Okay. Good. Breathe, Sergeant. Match my breathing.”

_Understood._

Bucky does so. As his breathing goes back to normal his eyes look a little less glassy, a little less lost.

“S-Sam?”

Sam releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Hey, Bucky.”

A million emotions cross Bucky’s face. There’s shame, of course, and there’s something akin to anger. Then his eyes become watery and soft. Bucky whimpers and Sam’s heart skips a beat.

“S-Sam, I—“

He cannot finish the sentence. A sob escapes him and he trembles under its force. It’s like the sea and the waves — no matter how much he tries to hold it back, another sob comes after; and another, and another. Bucky’s body shakes under their power and he has no choice but to let himself be. Sam doesn’t even know what he’s doing but one moment his heart aches for this pure soul, and the other he’s already pulling him into a hug. Bucky, in the raw and vulnerable state he’s currently in, lets himself be held and hides his face in the crook of Sam’s neck; allowing the crushing cries to rock his body.

It doesn’t last long, but when Bucky calms down he’s exhausted and pliant and sleepy. Sam does his best to put him back to bed and ignore the tear tracks in his face.

(He kind of wants to cry, too).

It’s when Bucky wakes up when Sam gets to know what Steve meant. The bad days: the actual ones.

The first time Bucky wakes up he just won't look into Sam’s eyes. He looks to a corner of the room and keeps muttering stuff in Russian. Sam’s no expert, but he knows enough to understand the words Bucky always begins with are: _“Mission Report.”_

It chills him to the bone. There are names and dates and places and Sam doesn’t know what to do but to stroke Bucky’s shoulder and slap his cheek very lightly to ground him back to reality, but that doesn't happen. Until Bucky’s frightened eyes lock onto Sam, probably having finished his litany because he falls too quiet; and then before Sam can even ask a question Bucky’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he falls unconscious.

Sam stares at him for quite a while, paralyzed.

The second time Bucky wakes up is even more unnerving than the first. He thrashes in the bed, screaming and twisting as if he’s possessed. Sam feels all kinds of wrong to interfere but he has to, so he shakes Bucky out of it. Bucky stares at him with his blue eyes big and frantic and before Sam can even say a thing Bucky bursts down crying, tear after tear after tear, and God he’s just too sad and too open so Sam pulls him close again and only lets him go when he feels his breath go even and his body go slack.

He tucks him under the covers after that.

* * *

The third time Bucky wakes up he just stares.

He looks at Sam, who has been dozing off too. Bucky barks something in Mandarin and Sam wakes up with a start. Sam watches him tentatively for a few seconds before asking:

“Hey, Bucky. How are you feeling?”

Bucky blinks. Sam swallows.

“Do you know where you are right now?”

Slowly, very slowly, Bucky nods.

“Tower.”

Sam nods.

“English?”

Bucky closes his eyes hard.

“T-Think. So.”

Good enough. Better than nothing. But still, Sam guesses it’s not enough so they can discuss the whole breakdown.

“Are you hungry?”

Bucky shakes his head.

“Do you want some water?”

Bucky shakes his head again.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Bucky’s eyes go really wide at the mention of sleep, raw and scared. Sam’s stomach twists: he guesses Bucky’s been having nightmares. It makes sense — he certainly doesn’t look rested.

“Easy. No one will force you to if you don’t want to.” Sam sighs. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

Bucky considers the option, then nods.

They move to the living room. Sam decides they should watch something soothing and pretty, so he goes for a Ghibli one. Steve used to love them when he had shitty days, too. Bucky doesn’t really watch it though, staring into nothing. He starts coming back to himself by the middle of the movie, little by little. Sam watches as his body relaxes slightly and he starts making comments here and there. Once it’s clear he feels better, Sam asks.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The movie keeps running. Bucky frowns, then he shakes his head.

“There’s nothing much. To talk about. Sometimes I just. Wake up wrong.”

He speaks slowly and pauses, but he’s not stammering anymore, so Sam guesses that’s a win.

He sighs. “Man, I get that.”

Bucky blinks. He looks a little surprised.

“Happens to you too?”

Sam feels embarrassed all of a sudden. It’s weird having to admit it out loud, especially to someone who’s been through the things Bucky’s been through. He supposes he owes him this though, after all, Bucky has shown him his most vulnerable side.

“Yeah.” He nods. “It doesn’t happen as often now though, but right after Afghanistan and losing Riley things were really… bad.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but there, he’s said it. Years ago he wouldn’t even have been able to finish the sentence, so he guesses he should feel proud about that.

(He doesn’t, really. Not right now).

Bucky is looking at him with compassionate, understanding eyes.

“Sam. You know you can,” and then he pauses. Sam waits, Sam is always patient and Bucky is grateful for how he doesn’t make fun of him or try to rush him when talking gets too hard. “Talk to me about it. Right? I won’t. Judge you or. Break down or. Anything.”

Sam smiles a little, wistful. It’s not a bad day — for him, at least, so he really doesn’t feel the need to talk about his trauma right at that moment, but it’s nice to know that he has someone to do it with in case he feels overwhelmed.

“Thanks, Bucky. I really appreciate that.”

“Yeah.” Bucky smiles back, a little sad. He looks awkward and small all of a sudden. “Hey, um. I hope this doesn’t offend you but I kinda don’t know what the hell is going on in this movie. I sort of… spaced out.”

“It’s okay,” Sam says, because it is. “I figured. But we can always rewind it, or do something else if you prefer that.”

Bucky stares into the distance. He smiles, but it looks wrong and bittersweet.

 _“‘If you prefer that,’”_ he repeats in a whisper. He looks back at Sam. “Can I tell you something?”

Sam braces himself to hear something most likely gut-wrenching.

“Of course you can.”

“Back then, I. I was punished. When they debriefed me and I couldn’t remember all the intel, I. I don’t know. It’s just weird, man. Choosing, and not being… hurt, when I can’t focus or remember some stuff. Sometimes I.” Bucky chokes. “Sometimes it makes me wanna puke, because I don’t deserve this kindness.”

Sam takes his hand. Bucky looks at him, eyes widened.

“Bucky,” he says softly. “You deserve to be treated like a human being.”

“I just. Sometimes it feels like I’m not.”

Sam lets go of his hand and rubs small circles on Bucky’s broad back. “I know. And I know we give shit to each other all the time, but just know that you deserve to be treated with kindness.”

Bucky doesn’t reply. His eyes go distant again. Sam keeps rubbing his back for a little while, and then the movie ends. Bucky snaps out of his reverie when the credits start rolling. He asks, “Is it over?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky blinks quite a few times. Sam asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers. He sounds tired. “I just… it happens sometimes. I lose… time. I think it happened during missions, all those years, but I can never be sure.” He sighs. “Sometimes I’m scared I’ll blink and another seventy years will have passed by.”

Sam wants to say, _“I won’t let that happen,”_ but the thing is, he can’t really promise that, as heartbreaking as it is. He’s lost a partner before, so he knows a little something about empty promises.

Before he can think of a better fitting reply, Bucky beats him to it.

“I think I understand why Steve got tired of this.” He snorts miserably.

Sam sighs audibly.

“Steve had a lot of issues too, y’know. He probably always will, like you and me.”

Bucky answers, “I know,” and Sam wants to say _“Do you really?”_ , because _yeah,_ the guy knows him and all, but he never actually saw Steve during those two years when they were looking out for him. Bucky didn’t see Steve become a shell of what he used to be, consumed by anger and desperation to find his old friend and avenge all of them who had wronged Bucky. And yet again Sam knows it’s not the appropriate thing to say because truly, that wouldn’t help. If anything it might make Bucky feel more guilty, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I mean,” Bucky goes on after a while, unable to look at Sam. “I’m really happy he got the life he deserved, you know? I really am, but…” he pauses and swallows thick. When he speaks again, his voice cracks. “I just… sometimes I miss him too much.”

Bucky covers his face with his hands and sobs. Sam automatically puts an arm around him and feels Bucky lean into the touch.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says, muffled by his hands and sobs. “I d-didn’t mean to — I don’t know what’s with me today, but I just… feel so sad...”

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Sam whispers, a knot in his throat. “I miss him too.”

Bucky sobs harder. “Stevie,” he cries. Sam holds him tighter and feels his eyes sting. It’s true. He misses the fuck out of Steve too. Bucky and him might have been friends forever, but Sam met Steve at his lowest, lived with him for two years and fought by his side many times. There was a time where he would’ve given his life for him without thinking about it. And he’s happy for him, too, but he also gets what Bucky’s feeling. Sometimes it just stings.

* * *

_It goes like this,_ Bucky tells Sam once he’s calmed down.

When he was the Winter Soldier, he’d mostly killed men. Men who had families. Sometimes they instructed him to kill Hydra operatives who had gone rogue, who had tried to get out of everything and make a good life. Sometimes they instructed him to kill them in their houses, along with their spouses, along with their kids. And he did that, because all those people, even if they were not directly involved with Hydra, were dangerous. They could talk. They could get revenge. So the Winter Soldier never risked it. _But the thing is,_ sometimes there were pets, too. And he could never bring himself to kill the animals.

He never did that. After all, they were harmless.

Bucky remembers one mission in particular, after ending a whole family. He remembers making his way out between blood and gut-spilled floors when he heard a little cry.

It was a cat.

It was a little cat, white fur stained red. And it was so small, barely a kitten. It meowed and meowed and meowed, its big eyes fixed on the man in black, as if asking the soldier not to leave him alone, to take him with him. It was barely a kitten and it now it was all alone in the world.

The Winter Soldier left, anyway.

 _And the thing is,_ Bucky tells Sam, _the thing is sometimes I feel like the cat._

* * *

Bucky falls asleep again and Sam’s both too tired and too embarrassed to wake him up; so they both end up sleeping on the couch. The next day he wakes up before Bucky, who must still be exhausted after the kind of day he had before. Sam takes the opportunity to go out and run some errands.

When he gets back, Bucky is meditating in the living room. His eyes snap open as soon as he hears Sam enter.

“Hey.” He frowns. “What are you hiding in your jacket?”

Sam can’t bite down his smile anymore.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Bucky’s eyes widen.

“A surprise? Can I—“

A meow interrupts him before he can finish the question. Bucky’s eyes widen even more and Sam takes out the little white cat he was hiding. He hands him to Bucky with utmost care. Bucky, however, is frozen in place. His eyes are glassy and huge, his mouth agape.

“Sam,” he manages.

“C’mon, just hold him.” The cat meows again. “If he scratches me, Barnes, I swear to God—“

Bucky takes the cat with shivery hands and exhales a shaky breath. He looks into the kitten’s eyes and then to Sam.

“You brought him for me?”

“Of course.” Sam replies. “Don’t you want him?”

Bucky swallows thickly. When he replies, his cheeks are already wet and his voice is a little weak.

“‘Course I do,” says Bucky. He places the cat on his lap and caresses him carefully. He’s so small, barely a kitten, like the one from his memory. The cat makes his place in Bucky’s lap and starts purring happily as Bucky keeps stroking his hair, teary-eyed.

“Hey little buddy,” he whispers between laughing and sobbing. “Hey there. You’re so cute, did you know that?”

Sam can’t stop grinning like an idiot. He feels the urge to make a live transmission because honestly, if there are still people who think that Bucky Barnes is a bad person this will certainly change their minds; so he does.

“I adopted him from an animal shelter. What are you gonna name him?”

“Sam,” Bucky jokes. Sam rolls his eyes and is about to tell him to go fuck himself when he remembers he must keep a certain image, so he just flips Bucky off camera. Bucky chuckles. “Just kidding. I’m gonna name him Alpine.”

“You came up with that pretty fast.”

“I’ve always wanted a cat,” Bucky admits, and then keeps playing with Alpine. Sam stops the transmission after a little while and knows better than to look at the comments, because even though there’s a lot of people who send their support, there are a lot of nasty comments too. And quite frankly, Sam has been dealing with a lot of that since he was born and sometimes they really bring him down, so he's better off avoiding them.

Bucky, on the other hand, is a bit of an asshole; and one of his hobbies is making fake accounts and leaving really vicious replies to the trolls.

(Bucky is very… creative when it comes to insults. He’s almost like some kind of wicked poet.)

Sam entertains Alpine as Bucky does his thing, and that’s how they end up sharing a pet.

* * *

Bucky thanks Sam after that.

Alpine is napping. They’re both hungry, and as a thank you, Bucky offers to make lunch. Sam tries to politely talk him out of it, but Bucky is no fool.

“What’s wrong? I’ve cooked before, don’t you think I’m capable of—“

He’s getting so worked up, his metal hand a fist now. Sam just rolls his eyes and thinks, _this dumbass._

(He’s kind of cute.)

“It’s not that, whitey,” Sam rolls his eyes. “No offense, but your cooking is very… bland, that’s all.”

“Oh. Fair enough.” Bucky looks down, blushing. Then he shoots Sam a charming grin, the one he probably used on the ladies before the war. And yeah, it’s dashing. It makes Sam a little breathless, but he won’t admit it out loud.

“Well, teach me?”

“No way. I’m taking these secrets to the grave, otherwise you might steal them.”

Bucky laughs. “Yeah, okay.” But he still follows Sam to the kitchen, sticks by his side and asks questions like a little kid while Sam cooks. Sam softens and ends up teaching him anyway.

* * *

Despite having a really good day, Bucky wakes up in a sweat in the middle of the night. Not even Alpine’s presence can get him to sleep again.

He doesn’t tell Sam, but the bags under his eyes give him away in the morning, anyway. Sam asks him what’s wrong but the only response he gets is something in Russian.

By noon Bucky inevitably crashes on the couch and Sam takes the opportunity to set up another thing for him.

* * *

Sam gets back after a few hours. Bucky is already awake and playing with Alpine in the living room. He looks a bit tired, a bit sleepy still, hair in disarray. There’s a bit of light in his eyes, however, so Sam guesses he’s feeling better.

They greet each other. Sam asks him how he’s doing and Bucky averts his eyes, but he says he’s fine and thanks Sam.

Sam tells him, “We’re going out.”

“Why?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t wanna go out,” Bucky protests. Sam knows when to be patient and indulgent and when to be pushy, so he commands.

“Well I didn’t ask. Some fresh air will do you good. Now get ready. And don’t give me that glare.”

Bucky doesn’t stop glaring, but he huffs in defeat when Sam doesn’t relent.

“Fine,” he grumbles.

Sam guesses that’s a good sign. If he were feeling too bad, he wouldn’t have given in so easily.

Sam pours milk for Alpine and entertains himself watching him as Bucky gets ready. They walk together and talk about different ingredients and how Bucky can improve his seasoning. Bucky finally seems calm and talkative, that is, until they reach the VA building. Then he freezes.

“Sam,” he mumbles. He sounds almost afraid. “Sam, I can’t go in there.”

Sam gives him a sympathetic smile.

“I know this seems hard, Bucky, but I promise you this will help you. These people, they’re like you.”

Bucky shakes his head, panicked.

“No. These people, they served their country, and I— I’m a traitor, I don’t deserve—“

“You’re a soldier,” Sam states. “Just like them.”

“No, Sam, you don’t understand—“

“Breathe, Bucky, just breathe.” Sam takes Bucky’s flesh hand and presses the thumb to his wrist. “Match my pulse, okay?”

Bucky doesn’t reply, but he does as he’s told. Once he’s better, Sam whispers in his ear.

“Look, these people — they know about you. I promise you, they understand. I won’t force you to go in there, but I feel like it could help you. And them, too. There’s something so… freeing about sharing.”

Bucky doesn’t reply. His breathing is almost normal, but his eyes are looking everywhere but at Sam’s. He’s holding Sam’s wrist really tight.

Sam gives him time.

Eventually, Bucky’s grip loosens and he looks at him.

“Okay.” He exhales. “Okay, I trust you.”

Sam nods. “We don’t have to stay through the whole thing, by the way. If it becomes too much, we can leave anytime. And also, you don’t have to talk if you don’t feel like it. It’s fine if you just listen. Okay?”

Bucky nods.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

They enter.

People are already waiting for them in the room. Bucky feels the urge to run away when he feels all eyes on them but resists, focusing on the floor. Some of them approach them to greet Sam, but they must feel the tension coming off from Bucky because they give him space, which is very much appreciated.

Sometimes, Sam has told him, he talks in front of the whole group. This time is different, however, for they form a circle with the chairs. Bucky sits next to Sam and already feels dizzy.

“You okay?” Sam asks him in a low voice.

“Yeah,” Bucky says through gritted teeth. “I can handle this.”

“Just remember we can leave anytime.”

“Yes.”

Sam stares at him hard, but doesn’t add anything. Then he starts talking.

“Everyone, this is my friend, Bucky Barnes. You must have heard about him.”

Truth is, Bucky is scared. He’s scared of people calling him a traitor, because they are right. He’s scared that this will confirm all his fears — that he’s a nobody that worths absolutely nothing. So he doesn’t really raise his eyes until he hears:

“Of course! He’s a War Hero.”

Everyone is staring at him, smiles on their faces. Bucky feels both the need to escape and to cry, but he’s too shocked to do either. So he just stays there with his eyes very wide. Next to him, Sam squeezes his shoulder, giving him an encouraging smile. And Bucky still cannot believe it.

“Yes,” Sam says, tearing his gaze away from Bucky to look at the other veterans. “And this is his first time in a session like this, so please be patient with him, okay?”

“‘M not.” Bucky replies, before Sam can go on. He looks at the ground when he feels everyone staring at him. “I’m not. A War Hero.”

Sam seems to consider this, then he asks.

“What are you then?”

Bucky glares at him. He knows Sam isn’t doing it maliciously, but this hurts him. He wants to tell him he’s a monster, but he also knows that isn’t what Sam wants to hear.

“I’m just tired,” he grumbles.

“Man, aren’t we all,” replies the lady next to him. Bucky looks at her — she’s pretty, probably in her forties, muscular and imposing. She gives out this feeling of wisdom and authority. Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that she outranks him. She stretches out her hand, asking carefully for permission with her eyes, and when Bucky doesn’t flinch she takes his hand — the metal one. If she’s surprised about it she certainly doesn’t show it.

She whispers tenderly. “Sergeant Barnes, you’re one of my biggest inspirations to keep fighting. So you have the right to be tired, but you’re not lonely, alright?”

There’s a lump on Bucky’s throat. He’s probably not capable of speaking without breaking down, so he just nods.

The session goes on. He doesn’t let go of the woman’s hand and she doesn’t seem to mind, squeezing tightly when she feels Bucky tense after someone says something that hits a little too close to home. They talk about how they are feeling, their regrets, what they would change. And Bucky listens to everyone and nods, and it’s weird because he thought it would trigger him but instead it feels like balm, like being understood.

He doesn’t talk about his experience and no one presses him to do so. He’s grateful for that.

When the session ends, some people approach them and Bucky tenses, yet it turns out they just want to say goodbye to Sam. It’s weird, but Bucky feels understood again. People here know what it’s like to feel too much, so they give him room to assimilate everything and get himself together.

It’s not until everyone else has left that Sam turns to him.

“Bucky? Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replies hoarsely, tears running silently down his cheeks. Sam squeezes his shoulder.

“Was that too much? Did I overstep?”

“No.” Bucky sniffs. He wipes his tears, tries to breathe. He gives Sam a heartfelt smile. “This was exactly what I needed.”

Sam returns the smile.

“I’m glad. Ready to go back home?”

“Yes,” Bucky says. “Yes, let’s go back.”

* * *

A few uneventful days pass, until one night Bucky knocks at Sam’s door. He’s fidgety and nervous.

Sam eyes him suspiciously. “What did you do?”

Bucky frowns and looks at the ground.

“Nothing. I’m.” He sighs, tries again. “I was wondering if you could help me cut my hair.”

“Oh?” Sam asks. “Tired of the man-bun?”

“A little,” Bucky admits. “So. Will you help me?”

“Are you sure? I know I’m a looker, but it’s not like I’m a stylist. We could go somewh—“

“No, I. I get nervous. Around scissors.”

“Oh,” Sam says slowly. “Are you sure this is a good idea then?”

Bucky nods almost viciously.

“Yes. I’d do it myself but my hands just won’t stop shaking and.”

“And?”

“Fuck, Sam, help a guy out okay? You’re the only one else I can trust, alright? There, I said it.”

Bucky’s blushing. Sam smirks and pinches his cheek.

“Awww, look at you, getting all worked up.”

“Fuck you. Will you do it or not?”

“Alright, don’t get all pissy on me, jeez. Do you have any idea of how you want it?”

“Just. Short.”

They go to the bathroom. Bucky sits in front of the mirror. His eyes are wild, like an animal’s before running away. Sam runs a hand through Bucky’s hair and Bucky shivers.

“If it’s too much,” Sam reminds Bucky, “just tell me to stop.”

“‘Kay.”

Sam is about to start, holding a lock of Bucky’s hair and opening the scissors when Bucky goes: “Stop. Stopstopstopstopstopstop.”

“Understood,” Sam reassures, letting go of the hair. Bucky is breathing quickly and audibly. “Hey, Bucky, we don’t have to do this—“

“Give me the scissors.”

“What?”

“Give me the scissors.”

Sam arches an eyebrow.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Just give them to me, Sam.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

Bucky takes the scissors in one hand and a lock of hair in the other. He’s shaking bad. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as he cuts the lock of hair away.

It falls to the ground, like a feather.

Bucky opens his eyes, fiery and determined. He cuts another lock of hair away and whimpers as it hits the floor, exhilarated.

“Okay,” he says. “Do it, Sam.”

Bucky gives the scissors back to Sam, closes his eyes tightly and lets him finish the work. It feels like forever and he constantly has to remind himself to breathe, to keep himself calm.

“It’s done,” Sam announces after a while, tenderly stroking Bucky’s scalp. “Bucky? It’s done.”

Bucky opens his eyes. He jumps out of his seat so suddenly that Sam gives a start. Bucky inspects his own reflection carefully, incredulously. He lets out an audible breath and then…

Then he smiles at the mirror, and Sam’s legs turn to jello.

* * *

Just like Sam has been teaching Bucky how to cook decently, Bucky has decided that Sam’s hand to hand combat abilities could do better. So he’s been teaching him that, and to handle knives too.

It’s… strange. Weeks have passed and things have started to change between them. Neither of them has had the guts to address it yet, but it’s more than obvious at that point: they do everything together. They share a pet. They have fallen asleep together on the couch more than a few times. Bucky touches him often, the briefest of things — a brush of hands when they are cooking, a playful step under the table when they are eating, stuff like that. And Sam has noticed how his heart skips a beat whenever Bucky does those little things.

Practicing their fighting is the hardest of everything, because there is just so much touching, and the noises Bucky makes are incredibly distracting; so despite usually being a quick learner, Sam loses the matches more often than not.

It’s one of those lost matches, again. Sam has fallen to the ground as Bucky stands victoriously, grinning, and then runs a hand through his short hair.

“Wow, I had forgotten how practical this is,” he says. Sam uses the distraction to make him trip, and to his surprise, it works.

Bucky makes a little sound and falls on top of Sam, who’s now laughing at him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, very funny,” Bucky complains as he sits up and helps Sam too. Sam takes the hand and immediately falls quiet when he notices how close they are to each other. His heart is pounding in his ears so loudly, and then Bucky leans in and—

Sam exhales and shivers when Bucky hides his face in his neck and nuzzles him. Sam lets out a pathetic little sound between a giggle (Bucky’s stubble tickles him) and a gasp. Bucky lets out a little chuckle.

“Your heart is beating so loud,” he comments, like an asshole.

Sam swallows.

“Bucky. We need to talk about this,” he says. It comes out weak and he wonders if Bucky even heard because he doesn’t reply for a good while, until he does.

“I know. But not right now.”

“Bucky—“

“Not right now, Sam. Let’s just… stay like this, for a while.”

Sam sighs, defeated when it comes to Bucky, and puts his arms around him.

* * *

They eventually get up, silent as they make their way to the showers. It’s not until they both are clean and dressed that they go to the living room to talk.

Sam is not really sure how to begin, but he’s also tired of dancing around this thing that’s growing between them, so he goes straight to the point.

“I have feelings for you,” he tells Bucky.

Bucky arches an eyebrow. “But?”

Sam sighs. “But I don’t want you to think of me as Steve’s replacement.”

 _“What?_ Sam, I could never — it wasn’t like that, between Steve and I.”

“Don’t lie to me. I saw the way you looked at him when he went to return the Stones. And that day, when you cried about him...”

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky admits. “I _had_ feelings for him. But I never told him about it. And anyway, that’s in the past now.”

“Is it?” Sam insists. “Look, Bucky, I just… you’ve been through so much. I’m just scared that you’re confusing what you think you feel for me just because I treat you like a _person._ ”

Bucky snorts. “Are you telling me I don’t know how I feel? I know this feeling Sam, I’ve felt it before. I just told you about it. It’s not because you’re nice to me. I’m… I think I’m falling for you.”

“Oh, Bucky.” Sam shakes his head. “Please don’t say that. Steve… Steve just left a few months ago. You’re probably confused and I doubt you’re ready for—“

“Wow, Sam, I didn’t know you were such a good therapist that you could even _know_ exactly what other people are feeling,” Bucky spits with venom. His eyes have turned cold. “Thanks for explaining my feelings to me.”

“You know that’s not what I—“

“Seriously, Sam, quit fucking around,” Bucky barks. “Just say that _you’re_ not ready.”

Sam feels an inexplicable rush of anger that immediately turns into embarrassment. Bucky is right. And he’s been so honest and vulnerable and open. Sam owes him just as much.

“You know what? You’re absolutely right,” he admits. “I _am_ not ready for this. I need to know that I’m more than Steve’s shadow.”

Bucky looks at him hard. “Fine,” he replies. “How can I prove it to you?”

Sam shrugs, gives him a sad smile. “I guess only time will show.”

Bucky opens his mouth to reply when the Tower’s AI announces that Maria Hill has come to visit.

* * *

“This is so fucking ridiculous! There must be something we can do!” Bucky snaps after Maria has delivered the news.

“We’re on it,” she says. “We just thought both of you should be aware of what the government is trying to do. They say that the US isn’t ready for a black Captain America. Right now, we are trying to convince them in friendly terms that Sam is more than capable and worthy of this, but you must know that in case they don’t accept, they might try to confiscate the shield.”

“Fuck them! Steve gave the shield to _him!”_ Bucky slams his fist on the living room table. Maria doesn’t even startle.

“As I said, James, we’re on it. This is just a possibility you both must be aware of.”

“Screw those guys. They’re just a bunch of shitheads that boss everyone around thinking they’re better. How did their fucking accords work for them, huh? Fuck it, I need a smoke.”

Bucky leaves. Sam sighs and apologizes on his behalf. Maria says there’s nothing to worry about on that.

Sam joins Bucky on the balcony after she has left.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

They stay in silence. Bucky finishes his cigarette and then asks, “How are you so calm?”

Sam smiles sadly. “Been dealing with this shit all my life, Sarge.”

“It’s just… it’s so fucking unfair. Back in the war Steve had to raise hell so that Jim and Gabe could fight with us. It’s been more than seventy years and not a thing has changed. And who the hell is that guy, anyway? _‘US Agent’_ my ass. What a ridiculous name.”

“Not as ridiculous as Bucky, though.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky snaps. “Here I am, worried for your ass and you can’t even take it seriously.”

“Yeah, okay. You think I’m not pissed? You think you know more about discrimination than I do? I’m telling you, I’ve been dealing with this crap since I was born. And if there’s something I know it’s that this thing, this tantrum? You’re throwing is sweet and all, but it doesn’t help for shit. So don’t tell me how to react, okay? ‘Cause if you or Steve raise your voices people listen and think you’re the boss, but if I do it people think I’m just loud.”

They both glare at each other, panting with fury. Bucky squares his shoulders, clenches his jaw.

“So that’s your excuse to give up.”

“Who said anything about giving up?”

That disarms Bucky. He raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t put up a fight when Hill told us—“

“That’s because there’s no point in doing so. It’s not even her fault. She’s trying to help us.”

“Yeah but… What if they do try to confiscate the shield, are you gonna give it up?”

“Like hell I am!” Sam snaps. _“I’m_ Captain fucking America. That shield belongs to _me._ If it comes to that, I’m gonna fight for it. But right now we can only wait. It’s sad, but when you’re part of a minority, Bucky, you learn not to get worked up about this stuff all the time. Otherwise I’d never end, and people won’t change their minds either way. I’m telling you — they just hear noise.”

Bucky doesn’t look angry anymore. He looks just sad.

“That’s so fucking unfair.”

Sam sighs. “A lot of things are unfair. You probably know that already.”

Bucky huffs. “You’re right.”

Sam gives him a pat on the back. “Save all that energy for later, okay? ‘Cause if worst comes to worst, I’m gonna need my partner to help me. So. Can I count on you?”

Bucky gives him a half-hearted smile. “You know you can, Cap.”

* * *

It appears, however, that Bucky can’t keep his big mouth shut.

(Sam begins to wonder if he acquired that from Steve or if it was that what made them become friends in the first place).

Bucky acts weird the next couple of days, but every time Sam asks him what he’s up to, he avoids the question. Sam is starting to get worried that he’ll do something crazy or dangerous; but as it turns out, Bucky was just planning a press conference with Pepper and Happy’s help, as Sam discovers one morning when he gets up and only finds a note.

_Turn on the news_

Sam, expecting the worst, does exactly that. He takes a bowl of cereal and sits on the biggest couch, Alpine on his lap. Then he just waits and he nearly spits the milk when they announce the press conference.

Pepper, the angel she is, introduces Bucky and calms down the reporters a little bit. Bucky squares his shoulders, thanks Pepper with a kiss on the cheek and begins talking.

“Hello. I’ve come here on the behalf of a dear friend, but before I start I want to make this clear: this idea, along with the words I’m going to say, are mine and mine only. In fact, had he knew, said friend would’ve probably advised me against this. So, sorry, Sam. But I just can’t not address this.”

Everyone is quiet. Bucky pauses, scans the audience before going on.

“That being said,” Bucky goes on, “I’m here to address why I think Sam Wilson is perfectly ready and more than capable to be Captain America, as well as how disgracefully the American society has treated him so far.”

People start talking then. There are a few flashes here and there, but Bucky seems unfazed by them and goes on after a little pause.

“You probably know my story. You probably know that I’m an old man, despite how I look. I grew up during the Great Depression and the War, with my mom, my dad and my three younger sisters. And I remember this time, when my sisters were about to come of age, that my mom asked them what ‘love’ meant for them.”

“They all said stuff like ‘passion’ and ‘romance’, prompted by what the movies and songs had taught them, but my mom laughed gently and shook her head. She told them, _‘true love, the truest form of love, is kindness.’_ And let me tell you something: Sam Wilson is the kindest person I’ve ever met. He’s always trying to help people out, way before he even took Captain America’s mantle. Even after all the cruel stuff people have said about him, Sam is always willing to help whoever needs it. And if you don’t believe that, just look at me: Sam has helped me. Someone with my,” Bucky licks his lips nervously; “someone with my past. So, if Sam Wilson is willing to give the devil himself a chance,” he crooks a smile; “I think the least we can give him is a little bit of our respect.”

“And just for the record,” Bucky adds on; “it’s not Sam Wilson who doesn’t deserve to be Captain America, it’s America who doesn’t deserve Sam Wilson. But he’s way too good to turn his back on us, and right now, in these times of fear and discrimination, America needs someone like him. Someone with kindness. A lover.”

Bucky lets the speech hang for a minute before nodding and finishing with a “Thank you.” Then he leaves immediately, barely giving the press time to react and attack him with pictures and questions. It’s Pepper, with her elegance and wit, who picks up where he left and manages the roaring crowd.

In the living room back at the Tower, Sam cannot stop crying.

* * *

Sam approaches Bucky as soon as he gets home. Bucky smiles nervously at him.

“Hey, Sam, I know you might be pissed at me right now but I—“

Sam shuts him up, crashing his mouth hard against Bucky’s. Bucky moans in surprise, yet quickly gets over himself and follows Sam’s rhythm. They make out hungrily, teeth and tongue and a few playful bites and Bucky moans. Bucky smiles against Sam’s mouth and Sam is delighted to taste that smile.

They stumble until they reach the couch, feeling each other up. Sam takes off Bucky’s shirt and Bucky helps him out with his own. Sam devours Bucky’s chest, leaving a trail of kisses and bites everywhere, feeling up the nipples until they get hard under his fingers and tongue.

They kiss again, rubbing their crotches together. The friction of the fabric between them is both unbearable and insanely stimulating. Bucky’s hands travel Sam’s body, feeling up his firm ass, his broad back. Sam bites Bucky’s ear and sucks on his neck, his hands still working on Bucky’s nipples. He pinches one of them and Bucky lets out a whimper that makes Sam’s pants feel tighter. Bucky is so malleable, so beautiful and pliant against his body. Sam picks up a faster pace and it’s not long before Bucky digs his nails into Sam’s back and arches his back. Bucky is so raw and open that he allows himself to fall apart completely, coming so hard that the only thing that comes out of his mouth is a broken whisper of Sam’s name.

It’s exactly that what sends Sam over the edge. His body jerks and he lets out a guttural moan, letting himself fall on top of Bucky as the pleasure drowns him. Bucky holds him and lets out a pleased sigh.

When they both come down from their high, Bucky lets out a chuckle.

“Man, if I had known that this is what I needed to do to be with you, then I would’ve asked Pepper to arrange the conference _months_ ago.”

“Shut up,” Sam says shyly, hiding his face in Bucky’s neck. He strokes Bucky’s chest, playing around with the hair on it.

(Sam finds it extremely hot).

Bucky hums lazily. Then Sam mumbles, “You don’t understand. Ever since I was little I’ve known that privileged people don’t help out minorities if there’s nothing in it for them. I’ve learned it the hard way.”

“We’re that bad, huh?” Bucky jokes. Sam rolls his eyes.

“What I’m trying to say, dumbass, is that you… doing _this,_ means a lot to me. Much more than you could ever imagine. You give me hope.”

“Well.” Bucky kisses his forehead. “Just a little bit in exchange for all that you’ve given me.”

Sam kisses him again. They make out slowly for a while. Sam puts his hand on Bucky’s crotch and he’s pleased to discover that Bucky’s already half hard again. He’s about to unzip his pants when he hears a little meow. 

Sam sits up. Bucky groans when Sam breaks the kiss.

“Saaaaam.”

“Oh shit. Bucky, I think Alpine saw the whole thing.”

“Huh?” Bucky sits up. Alpine is sitting there, staring with wide eyes and meowing again.

Bucky groans again.

“Damn cat,” he complains with no ill meaning behind it. Sam bursts out laughing and Bucky does too.

* * *

A week passes by.

If someone asked Sam if they are in a relationship, he wouldn’t know what to say. They touch, and they kiss, they kiss a lot, and they feel each other up and rub against each other when the urges become too much. They haven’t done much more than that and Sam doesn’t want to push, with all that Bucky has been through.

(Bucky has been doing good lately. Sometimes, as he had already told Sam, he loses time. But that’s okay.)

Right at the moment, they are in Sam’s bed, both half naked and drowsy after necking for a while. Sam runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair and enjoys watching how it makes his eyes droop.

“You have really nice hair,” Sam mumbles.

“Hm.” Bucky is like a housecat, Sam thinks. “Do you prefer it. Long?”

Sam considers, presses a kiss to Bucky’s head. “Not really. I mean, I like it either way. Do you?”

“Not really.” Bucky echoes.

They stay in comfortable silence for a while. Then Bucky shifts and sits up.

“Hey, Sam. I was thinking.”

“Careful. You don’t want to hurt yourself.”

“Ha-ha. Nah, I’m serious. I was thinking about moving to Indiana.”

Sam makes a face as if Bucky has just told him that Thanos is back. “Why?”

Bucky chuckles.

“I was born there, lived there a couple of years before we moved to Brooklyn. And I was thinking. I want to help people like me. People that want to start over, to have a second chance. C’mon, think about it. It’s a nice, calm place. We could work from there. I mean, if you wanted, of course.”

“Oh, Bucky,” Sam sighs. “I’m sorry, but I’m not following you there.”

“It’s really not as bad as people make it sound—“

“It’s not that. People need protection _here,_ Bucky. You know this is where things always tend to happen.”

They stare at each other, unflinching.

Finally, Bucky sighs. “I understand that. But I feel like I really need to do this, Sam.”

“I get it. And I’m glad, I really am, and I’m proud of you. Really.” He pinches Bucky’s cheek tenderly. 

Bucky looks down. “Then I guess that means we will be away from each other.”

He sounds so sad. Sam feels the urge to pull him close and hold him tight, so he does.

“We’ll find a way to work it out,” he reassures.

* * *

Sam has mixed feelings about Bucky leaving. On one hand, he’ll miss the fuck out of him. On the other, it makes him happy to see him so excited about helping others.

They tell Sharon Carter about it, too. She offers herself to help Bucky get set up. They are planning on making a helpline for people who want to leave their lives of crime behind and start over, so they can help them get out of risky situations and accommodate them in a totally different place.

Sam is glad that at least Bucky will have some company. And even though it breaks his heart a little, he tells him to take Alpine with him.

“But Sam,” he tells him with sad eyes. “I couldn’t.”

“You’re the one who always wanted a cat. And I brought him for you. Plus, that will give me an excuse to visit you more often.”

Bucky gives him the brightest smile he’s ever seen, and Sam thinks, _man, what I wouldn’t do to see that smile all the time._

Bucky packs the night before leaving. Sam helps him.

“Done,” Bucky says when they finish, putting his baggage aside. Then he looks at Sam and approaches him, caressing his cheek. “God, I miss you already.”

“Because I’m irresistible,” Sam jokes. Bucky gives him a little kiss, smiling.

“Yeah, hotshot. Look at you. I’m gonna miss your cute face every day. The little gap between your teeth.” He cups Sam’s cheek affectionately, then lets his hands travel down as he appreciates Sam’s body. “These big, strong arms. This, too,” he smiles provocatively as he grabs Sam’s butt. Then he gets to his groin and cups Sam’s crotch. “And the heat here.”

Sam is already half hard from feeling Bucky pressing his body so tightly to his. It doesn’t help his arousal when Bucky kneels down, looking up at Sam almost reverently.

Sam presses his finger to the jut of his chin. “Bucky,” he mutters hotly. “You don’t have to do this—“

“I want to. Jeez, I don’t know when I'll see you again. I want to take a really good memory with me.”

Sam chuckles.

“Yeah, okay. I can help with that.”

They move to the bed. Sam has Bucky straddling his lap, grinding his firm ass against his hard-on. It’s feels so good when he does it that Sam always feel like he’s gonna fucking faint.

They get rid of the clothes. Then Bucky puts that pouty red mouth of his on Sam’s length and swallows him whole. And Sam thinks he could come just from seeing Bucky’s eyelashes flutter on his ocean eyes darkened with lust, from just listening to those wet little sounds his mouth makes as he laps him all over.

Bucky sucks him off with delight, cupping Sam’s balls and bobbing his head until Sam comes undone in Bucky’s mouth. Bucky milks him and swallows every drop with pleasure, making Sam a shivering mess on the sheets in the process.

He tries to do the same for Bucky once he recovers. He starts by kissing Bucky’s neck while he jerks him off, but just as he’s about to go down on him, Bucky freaks out and tells him to stop.

“You okay?” asks Sam.

“Yeah,” Bucky pants. Then he shakes head. “No. I don’t think I can go all the way, Sam. Not just yet.”

“Hey, that’s fine. Come here.”

Sam holds him. Bucky is scared, and despite Sam being the one who just came, it’s Bucky who’s breathing audibly. Sam whispers sweet nothings in his ear until Bucky relaxes again.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky tries to hold back a sob, hiding in the crook of Sam’s neck.

“You don’t have to apologize for this. It’s okay. We’ll do it when you’re ready. For now, this is more than enough, don’t you think?”

Sam is stroking Bucky’s back. It feels good, the warmth between them. Bucky tries to get closer, squirming against Sam. Sam puts both his arms around him.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs happily. “This is nice.”

They cuddle and fall asleep together. In the morning, Bucky leaves.

* * *

Sam told Bucky he wouldn’t follow him to Indiana, but he sort of ends up doing it anyway. He finds himself coming to visit too often and finds out that _hey, Bucky was right._ The place is pretty nice and it’s so good to help him relax and de-stress after all the obligations of being Captain America and living in the big city. Bucky has a big, green yard with pretty trees and Sam loves to practice with the shield there.

They spend the evenings making out or watching a movie, or playing video-games when Sharon comes along. Bucky teaches Sam to meditate, and they practice their combat techniques as well. In the night, the three of them and Alpine sit in the yard and watch the stars. It’s tranquil, and the house is big and nice, and Bucky is happy and fulfilled and finally a little bit more at peace; and Sam can’t help but smile when he catches him humming while he cooks breakfast or teaching him how to dance to old songs, because it means he’s content.

Sometimes it’s Bucky who visits, usually because he stays for a few days after missions. When they’re away, they try to talk every day despite how busy they might be. So it turns out, after all, that they do make it work.

* * *

They have been together for a few months and by that point Bucky already knows how Sam is feeling just by hearing his voice when they call each other. So he knows there are bad news coming one night, when he tells Bucky he needs to go back to the Tower for a mission.

It always feels like home when he comes back, just because Sam is there. But even that can’t erase the tension in the environment; so after greeting him with a long hug and a kiss, Bucky dares to ask.

“What happened?”

“Zemo is back.” Sam tells him. Sam is always direct.

Bucky goes rigid. “What?!”

“He broke out from the prison he was in, and now we don’t know what he’s up to. So we gotta find out, and we gotta be quick.”

Bucky is not looking at him. He’s looking at the ground, eyes wide and unseeing, jaw set. Sam touches his shoulder very carefully and feels him tremble.

“Bucky. You don’t have to join me on this one if you don’t feel ready to, but I figured you deserved to know anyway. And I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Yeah,” Bucky licks his lips. “Yeah, thanks, Sam.”

“Are you okay?”

Bucky takes a while to respond. He looks shocked and scared, until his eyes narrow with determination. He looks at Sam and nods.

“Yes.” He holds Sam’s hand, squeezes tightly. “Yes, I’m good and ready to kick that motherfucker’s ass.”

Sam smirks.

“That’s my boy,” he pats him in the back. 

Bucky comes closer and their foreheads touch. He sighs.

Sam knows that Bucky is actually terrified, just as he is too. But he also knows that as long as they’re together, they can beat anything.

**Author's Note:**

> I initially intended to focus on the MCU but as I went on I couldn’t help taking some elements from Winter Soldier: Second Chances (2018) like Alpine, and Bucky and Sharon living in Indiana and helping people out bc it’s too cute
> 
> Anyway stream FATWS when it comes out 💕


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